


Alone

by TigerShinigami



Series: Time Followed By Death [1]
Category: Bleach, Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Adventure, Crossover, Episode: s06e13 The Wedding of River Song, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Science Fiction, Shakespeare, Time Travel, Vacation, terrible drawings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:54:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25836832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerShinigami/pseuds/TigerShinigami
Summary: He spoke of how he traveled all the time simply because he could, because of what he was, because of his ship that could go anywhen and anywhere. Rukia dismissed him for a fool. She called him one, as well.
Relationships: Kuchiki Rukia & Kurosaki Ichigo, Kuchiki Rukia & The Doctor, The Doctor & Amy Pond (Doctor Who)
Series: Time Followed By Death [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1894801
Kudos: 6





	1. Shakespeare

Ichigo, in an admirable attempt at catching up with his homework and living his normal human life, was sitting at his desk and trying to concentrate. He hunched over his textbooks with a furrowed brow, one that betrayed his rapidly dissolving patience. It wasn’t easy to focus. Not with the constant interruptions. 

“Johnny! Do not go to the battle! It will be dangerous!” Rukia’s voice sang out, full of dramatic exaggeration on all the wrong words. “It will be alright, Maria! You must stay on board the ship and continue to explore the reaches of space. Take care of young George for me!” Every line was almost bellowed with the same tone and rhythm. It was cheesy. 

His ears and attention span couldn’t take it anymore. He glanced over his shoulder to glare at the small Shinigami that sat perched in the closet with a book held open before her. “Hey! Be quiet! I’m trying to focus on homework,” He shouted in irritation. 

“I will defend you against the evil Xaronian empire and their forces! You can trust in my skill with a starfighter, Maria!” Her voice grew in volume, building with each and every word. Ichigo’s eye began to twitch. 

“Shut up! Can’t you see I’m trying to do homework? What’s that crap you’re reading, anyway?!” 

Rukia finally looked up from her book. “Fool! It is a thrilling science-fiction tale.”

“It’s terrible! What kind of stupid story is that?” 

He barely managed to duck his head in time to avoid the book that was sent flying across the room, narrowing missing him. It hit the wall and slid down to the floor. 

“Idiot! It is not my fault you have no taste in literature.” 

“Says the one who hated Shakespeare.” He leaned over towards the wall and retrieved the fallen book. After tossing it towards Rukia (but not hard enough to count as an actual throw, so he hoped) he tried to go back to his textbooks. She caught the book clumsily, but soon found where she had left off. Ichigo took the lack of immediate violence as a good sign. He leaned back in his chair, angling his face towards her casually. “Since when did you read space stories? What happened to that horror and romance crap?”

She snorted. “It is merely interesting to read of different worlds and beings,” She said casually looking down at the book. 

Ichigo turned back to the desk, hoping he could use the small window of quiet to make progress with his assignments. The mountains of homework from various unplanned absences had added up. Hollow hunting took up a lot more of his time than he’d thought it would. He glanced at his history textbook, skimming the page for the section needed for a worksheet question. 

“Even if it is not accurate, it is still a thrilling story.”

He kept reading a paragraph on Ancient Rome and Augustus Caesar. He had served as an influential ruler of the Roman Empire following- Ichigo stopped. His expression froze in a wary yet perplexed way, head slowly turning to regard Rukia across the room. “...What?” His voice was flat and almost a statement rather than a question. Dryly, he asked, “What the hell are you talking about?”

She didn’t glance up from her book, idly flipping another page with a calm and casual demeanor that somehow irritated him. “It is not accurate in showing space and aliens,” She explained easily like one would give directions to the closest vending machine. “They do not act in such a way.”

“Aliens aren’t real! Who told you they were? You can’t believe everything you see on TV!”

She turned another page. “No, I know because I have seen for myself.”

He looked at her then, his eyes narrowing first, then widening slightly. There was a pause as his mind worked in vain to understand what she said in a rational, sane way. He wasn’t able to. “...What are you talking about? You haven’t seen any aliens! They don’t exist!”

Rukia glanced up, her lips teasing a devious smirk. “Oh? Are you surprised to hear I have a life outside of you?”

He rubbed the back of his neck in irritation. “That’s not what I’m saying! You’ve never met any aliens, because they don’t exist. It’s just something made up in stories, like werewolves and vampires.”

“Would you have said the same about Shinigami, in the past?” She asked with amusement streaking her voice.  
  
“It’s not like that!” He said, adamant. He was frustrated but confused, and also concerned at how serious she seemed to be. 

“Do not act so surprised. I have gone on my own adventures in the living world that did not involve you,” She said with just a touch of smug pride.  
  
His curiosity had reached new levels of confusion, bewilderment, and worry. Ichigo searched her expression for any hint that it was all some prank or way to bicker with him. But it was that soberness underlying her tone of voice and words, the way she related the information in that matter-of-fact tone that left no room for questions.

“You- You can’t be serious,” he said, still outwardly frustrated and trying to cover his concern. 

“Yes. I traveled with an alien for some time aboard his ship, visiting different places and times.” 

“No, you didn’t. Stop making things up, Rukia!”

“Fool! I am not!” Irritation was now evident in her tone. He could sense true frustration in her voice and the way she stubbornly pretended like she was still reading her book. It would have been easy to dismiss it as another devious streak. She enjoyed pushing his buttons all too often (though he had grown used to it by then) but this was something different. Ichigo watched her expression, the way her brows knit together in anger, the real kind, not the typical bickering over getting her ice cream or if Shakespeare actually wrote good stories. 

There was a beat as she kept pretending to read her book, but he knew she was too mad to concentrate. He let out a sigh. “So… What happened?” His voice wasn’t nearly as convincing as he would’ve liked- it was still very sceptical, tired. But he would make at least some effort to placate her. He knew she wasn’t crazy, at least. And it was possible this was part of some joke on her part to get a reaction from him. 

Another moment passed. Rukia was clearly debating with herself over saying anything, no doubt sensing his less than enthusiastic tone. “I met him in town, when we were meeting as a group to visit the festival,” She said evenly. 

Ichigo waited for the next part of the story, growing impatient when he realized there was none. “...And?!”

“Does it matter? You do not believe me.”

He gave a frustrated sigh. “It’s- It’s not that!” He struggled for the right words, knowing he walked that fine tightrope between being honest and setting her off. “You said you travelled around aliens with him, right? So when did you have time to do that? We couldn’t have been separated for more than an hour!”

“His ship was also a time machine. I merely returned moments after we left.” 

Ichigo leaned forward on the desk, pinching the bridge of his nose and shutting his eyes in irritation. This bizarre conversation- joke- whatever it was, was getting old. His already stretched patience was waning rapidly. 

“Do you not trust me?” Her voice caused him to look up sharply at her, and he found her staring at him intently, frowning. There was no evidence of humor or deviousness then. Just the faint signs of vulnerable honesty and hurt showing in her expression, so subtle that few people alive or dead could recognize it. 

Ichigo knew he couldn’t deny her. Her words were impossible- insane, even- but her gaze was as firm and intense as ever. He also knew that Rukia Kuchiki was many things, and insane was not one of them. (Although he questioned that on occasion.) No, aliens didn’t exist, because that was several levels outside of what he could believe. Ghosts and spirits? Sure. But aliens with flying saucers making pit-stops in Karakura Town? Hah! 

So if Rukia wasn’t lying, then she was telling the truth. Or at least what she thought was true. It was possible she saw something she thought was an alien- which wouldn’t be hard, considering the many living world things she had never seen before. It was probably an odd parade float of some kind. Or a reality prank show she walked in on. Yeah, that would make sense- She was probably featured on some episode where they pranked random people as they walked down the street. They probably had fake lighting effects and some guy in a suit. 

He wasn’t sure she truly understood the oddities of the living world. But over the past several weeks, he found he trusted her in the things that mattered. 

Ichigo leveled his gaze with hers. “Yeah, I do.”

Rukia smirked. “Idiot. Then you will believe what I am saying.” 

He tried to nonchalantly go back to his homework while conceding her point, but a smirk found its way to his face despite it. “Yeah, yeah…” 

“Besides, where did you think I found your birthday present?”

He thought of the gift she gave him two weeks earlier, the fresh-looking parchment pages filled with inked, handwritten lines written in old scripted English, and the word _Hamlet_ along the top. “Yeah? What about it?”

“It’s an original manuscript. It took some effort to retrieve.”

Ichigo nearly fell out of his chair.


	2. Vacation

As she lay in the closet that night trying to sleep, Rukia could not help but remember that very strange evening and the events that unfolded. That time she stumbled upon a strange blue box and an even stranger man. It was true enough what she had told Ichigo- She had gotten lost in the city while trying to meet with her human friends. The unfamiliar roads after dark were confusing, labyrinthian, as she tried to meet Ichigo and the others that night. She could find her own way, she stubbornly believed. Surely it would be easy compared to the neverending streets of Soul Society or Rukongai. 

30 minutes had gone by, and she was still no closer to finding her friends. Then, she had seen the strange blue box with official wording along the top that she vaguely translated as ‘Police’. (She was inwardly proud of that, given what few English classes she had been through at the living world school.) Frustration and exasperation led her to march up to the blue wooden doors and knock loudly. The door had opened to reveal a tall, skinny man in a striped suit and brown coat with spiky brown hair. Rukia wasted no time in making herself look as bashful and sorrowful as possible. A dainty hand brought to her face, her voice higher-pitched and sugary sweet just as she would act around humans. She was but a small, lost girl who needed directions in order to meet up with her friends. Surely someone like him could help her…!

But he had not reacted as she expected. No, he was not phased by her acting ability and cries for sympathy. He was curious and strange to her all at once. And he seemed puzzled, even amused at her behavior, nevermind her calls of distress. All too easily he had seen past her ruse. 

It was annoying. 

Then, he was mildly surprised- he could tell she was a Shinigami, he had said. For he had met her kind before, once or twice, and it didn’t phase him in the slightest. Though he found it strange for someone such as her to be wondering about a small human town, dressed like a student such as she was, and looking for a local festival. That wasn’t normal for Shinigami, he had noted.

She regarded him with suspicion, knowing he was more than a regular human, and possibly a threat. Her currently weakened state did nothing to help matters. Yet his strange attitude and manner of speaking did not alarm her, not truly. She sensed no danger from the tall man. (Her head barely came up to his shoulders, leading her to conclude that he was simply excessively tall, at that.) Dropping her facade, she demanded answers of him. How could he know what she was? What was his business with Shinigami? 

He showed no concern for her firm, direct tone or her intense gaze, the faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes. His attitude was far too casual, too cheerful and light. In response to her questioning he simply dismissed her concern and assured her there was no reason to worry. He was just a tourist, really, just passing through on vacation, he had said. A trip to see the area and meet a particular celebrity (but they wouldn’t be known for another 30 years, he claimed.)

It made little sense to her, and she wasn’t sure at the time if he was normal for the living world western countries, or if he was simply mentally ill. 

Rukia had tried to find out more about the man. Instead, the conversation turned to the idea of a vacation. She realized she had never gone on one- not to the standards of the living world, as far as she could tell. She had taken days off from Shinigami duties, and had spent recent weeks in the living world acting like a human would. But a vacation, when one truly left home behind in favor of somewhere new and far away? No, she had not. 

Hesitantly she admitted that aloud, and it caught the stranger’s interest. He reminded her of a young child growing excited over a looming visit to a toy shop. He was… strange. 

But if he was deterred by her blunt skepticism of him, he didn’t show it. And he spoke of how he traveled all the time simply because he could, because of what he was, because of his ship that could go anywhen and anywhere. She dismissed him for a fool. She called him one, as well. 

And yet, moments after heated back-and-forth questioning and answering (though too vague for her liking) he opened the doors of his box (which was a spaceship) and proved what he claimed. No, it was not a saucer as she had expected. Nor did he have green skin and antennae. Aliens were not like they were on ‘Tee-Vee’.

She had seen very little of the living world, she knew. There was much more to Earth than she had experienced through books and films. He raised an eyebrow and offered, right then, if she wanted to take a trip somewhere. And she would return right when she left as if no time had passed. 

Her skepticism had been in full force. Why would she trust him? Would it be so easy to leave, unplanned, trusting she would lose no time? 

In response he had only smiled, a slight mischievous glint in his eyes. But it was not a malicious look. No, she did not sense he meant ill of her. And her bluntness and firm tone had done nothing to dissuade him. He couldn’t prove that he was trustworthy, he said, but pointed out that a Shinigami surely didn’t need to worry about someone still living. He was trusting her, too, after all. 

The offer was tempting, she realized, somewhat angry at herself. Her eyes narrowed as she regarded him with that firm expression she often wore. She looked for any sign of deception (or lack of sanity) for a long moment. He began to list places and eras of note, most of which held no meaning for her. But her attention had piqued at ‘wild American west’. And he saw that flicker of interest and excitement on her face. 

We would return to the same moment in time? She had asked again, to be sure. He confirmed they would, because one could do that with a time machine. And a single trip? She asked, her skepticism rapidly fading with every moment. One trip would do, and he would bring her right back where they left, he promised. 

She agreed. 

It was a strange ship, to be sure. There were hardly any seats inside save for the battered couch off to the side. It did not seem to fly, either, as she had seen planes and spaceships do in films. At first she wondered if it was some form of trap given the rocking about- or perhaps he could not fly it properly? But her doubts vanished when they opened the doors to the American wild west, just as Rukia had read about in one of her novels. Previous concerns faded away in favor of excitement- open excitement she had not felt in some time. 

Despite that, it was a brief vacation- she knew she would return soon enough to her duties in Karakura, to regaining her powers and keeping Ichigo safe. Her absence would not be missed for the few minutes she would be away. It was simply one trip, after all. 

Or two.

Or five. 

The sixth was a complete accident, the ship apparently refusing to take them back to Karakura Town and opted instead for a small moon in a distant galaxy celebrating its 400th anniversary. There was a parade and festival involving silly hats. She immediately donned one for herself. She insisted he should wear one too, otherwise they would not be festive. 

That visit, like the others, was more than it first seemed. They encountered more mystery, more danger, and, as always, more running. It was also during that visit when her friend realized the Xinu clan’s foreboding prediction that he ‘would soon meet death’ was meant quite literally, and thus was nothing to worry about. 

Similar to their other adventures, her (still weakened) Shinigami abilities were useful on more than one occasion. There was no reason to run if the enemy could be easily restrained with a spell. The same could be said of her skillful acting abilities, when a poor, sympathetic crying girl could be of use. Or serve as a distraction. 

The living world, she had learned, was far larger than she had ever dreamed it could be. 

She learned of places and beings outside of Earth, and of eras long since past. Often she was unimpressed by something they visited- only to find something else to catch her fascination, cluelessly amazed at things such as a machine that poured hot drinks on command, or the race of animals that looked like cats and rabbits combined. But she had no particular love of rabbits, she insisted time and again, shouting and threatening to kick him for even suggesting such a foolishly outlandish idea. She didn’t know why he had to dwell on it so much, or to laugh. 

Even the spaceship itself was not as she expected, and so very different from her novels and movies. It was alive, somehow, in a way she had little trouble believing. It was hardly something strange- in a world where swords could be inhabited by spirits and artificial souls kept in candy, she was hardly phased. (Though there was the time she was perched idly in one of the high support structures in the console room, reading her manga, when she heard him call the ship ‘sexy’. He didn’t know she was in the room, that was clear. It was… concerning.)

Amongst the seemingly haphazard adventures, Rukia remembered that Ichigo had mentioned his upcoming birthday in passing. She would need a souvenir to bring back with her. When asked of his interests, she recalled the pile of books tucked away on a shelf in his room, bearing the name 'Shake-spears' (or 'Shakespeare' as the Doctor corrected her.) Her new friend grew all the more excited and promised it would be easy for them to find a gift- one unlike anything else Ichigo would get. It would take just one more stop, just a quick trip to the 17th century, so long as they were careful to arrive later than a certain year and to avoid the Queen. Somehow, they still found themselves running from guards despite her friend’s insistence that he had no idea why. 

Finally came the time for their adventures together to end. She would return to the exact moment she left (give or take half an hour) and once again live her ‘normal’ life. A life awkwardly pulled between worlds of the living and the dead, a temporary one, that would end once her powers returned. 

It was a bittersweet moment given their time together. For during their travels between the sightseeing and random bouts of running (for there always seemed to be running in some way) she had seen glimpses of loneliness. There was a sadness within him, always lingering just out of sight, tucked away in the shadows and hidden behind a cheeky smile. And she had managed to learn that he was no stranger to loss, to saying farewell to those left behind. It could only be expected when one lived hundreds of years and befriended humans with their very short lifespans. There had been times she caught him lamenting events of the past and what he had done. When his cleverness wasn’t enough, or when things went wrong. She would call him a ‘fool’- reminding him that such an attitude would help nothing. 

As Rukia stood there just outside of the wooden blue doors, she paused in her goodbye. She shared her own words of comfort that were carried deep within her heart. Words that came all too easily to her from nearly 40 years ago- That when someone dies, their heart is left behind with those who care for them. Because of this, it was important to never die alone. That through this, friends and family will never truly leave you even if they pass from one life to the next. 

His reaction had been unreadable then. Too often she had difficulty in knowing what he was really, truly thinking... But the words had been her gift, her way of encouragement for the friend she had unexpectedly made when lost in Karakura that night which seemed so long ago. 

She scolded him for having such a depressing look on his face. But she smirked. A bit of humor to lighten the mood, and he gave an amused smirk of his own. 

Then, with a sad smile, she walked away into the dark streets of Karakura Town. 

\- To Be Continued -


End file.
